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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081785">Where Vices Win</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scp116/pseuds/thelongcon'>thelongcon (scp116)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Begging, Boys in Skirts, Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Facials, M/M, Manhandling, Overstimulation, Panties, Pet Names, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slut Shaming, Stalking, Trans Male Character, Transmasc reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, Violence, stalker behavior</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:54:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scp116/pseuds/thelongcon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your head swiveled to the door you'd shut behind you, going to reopen it and run when you heard a man clearing his throat. A deep voice, a familiar voice, hit you as your hand rested on the doorknob. </p><p>“Looking pretty cute, kitten. Glad to know you still know how to listen.”</p><p>(Warning! CNC turned Non-con, transmasc reader with use of feminine terms. Heed the tags!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Handsome Jack (Borderlands)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where Vices Win</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilidaes/gifts">nautilidaes</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          You didn't hang around places like this a lot.</p><p>          Places like this- seedy, dirty, covered in alcohol spilled over the rims of glasses and other substances you didn't exactly want sticking to the bottom of your shoes. You wouldn't have come if it wasn't for the voicemail you'd received earlier that week, instructing you where to go, when to be there and how to dress- a skirt, the voice said, and a gold necklace of your choice. It was suspicious, or it would have been, if that wasn't exactly what you wanted. Adverts posted on questionable websites over the course of the last two months, advertising <em>exactly</em> what you wanted. A quick, rough, anonymous affair somewhere you would never be with people you would never know again. The voicemail confirmed everything you'd said, and offered it all to you in the back room of this bar should you chose to go. As you looked around, there was nobody wearing what the man said he would be wearing- which, you didn't really expect there to be. He said he'd be in the back room, but part of you hoped he'd be at the bar waiting for you to arrive. Watching the door, or getting a drink to steady his nerves, anything to show he was just as anxious about this fantasy as you found yourself. As scary as it was to ask a stranger to assault you, it was even more frightening for that stranger to be eager to <em>do it</em>.</p><p>          You walked up to the bar and pushed forward a few dollars for a shot, threw it back, and took a deep breath. You'd already consented to this. There was no point in staying sober for the sake of it, especially not with the fear and excitement bubbling in your chest. The voicemail gave you an option to wear a binder or not, but asked you not to pack for the sake of “easier access”. That phrase had terrified you, thinking of yourself as something to be easily used without foreplay or reservation- but you came anyways. Something about you needed this, you thought- needed to know what it was like to live out this fantasy with someone who didn't expect you to stay until morning. Looking around, your eyes settled on the hallway leaning deeper into the building, ignoring the fear coiling in your stomach as you refused the change from the bartender and started walking through the crowd. People less danced here as they did swayed against each other, too drunk to notice who they'd fallen into and too lonely to pull away as a nice song came on. It was kind of sad to watch strangers pressed up close to each other, like they had a connection until the final notes played, when they fell away and went back to their corners of the bar. Shaking your head as you shouldered through the crowd, you kept your eyes on the prize- the door at the end of the hallway where you were told to go.</p><p>          Pushing through the door, you paused at the room before you. There...was not much in there. A clean couch and a desk, covered in thick stacks of papers save for a few inches where an ashtray rested. The room reeked of cigarette smoke and some kind of alcohol, probably beer from the bottles you spied on the ground beside the desk, a few broken and shattered on the ground. The dim light didn't show much of the rest of the room, but from what you could see, it was probably an office. You heard some rustling through a small door off to the side, light shining out of what was most likely a bathroom as a faucet stopped running after you stepped in. You almost turned tail and ran, thinking you'd entered the wrong room entirely, and now some old creep covered in sweat stains would come out and yell at you- but that's not what ended up happening.</p><p>          Your head swiveled to the door you'd shut behind you, going to reopen it and run when you heard a man clearing his throat. A deep voice, a familiar voice, hit you as your hand rested on the doorknob.<br/>
          “Looking pretty cute, kitten. Glad to know you still know how to listen.” Your blood ran cold at the voice, at the words, frozen in terror as you heard boots thudding on the concrete floor behind you. Big, warm hands came to rest on your waist, slowly sliding up to the edge of your binder before falling back down to your hips. They squeezed as his broad chest pressed up against your back, almost pinning you to the door. Jack Lawrence, shady arms dealer and worst ex-boyfriend ever, moved his hand to rest on your ass as he buried his nose in the nape of your neck. His mouth felt familiar on you, as they had for the months you dated, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't look for a bit of Jack in every pair of lips that kissed you. Nobody you'd been with since Jack used teeth, for one.</p><p>          “Wait, Jack...” He shushed you by wrapping his hand across your mouth, holding it firmly shut as his hand wandered up your body and under your shirt, his lips dipping down to tug at the necklace you'd worn. The gold necklace he'd given you, you realized- he'd been checking if yous still had it. His touch was warm, rubbing off the chill of the night, fingertips tucking under the waistband of your pants and massaging lower. You closed your eyes against the touch for just a moment, before your face twisted up as the realization set in.<br/>
          “Jack, no, we broke up for a reason. I...I didn't realize it was you-” Jack growled deep next to your ear, twisting out of your grasp as you tried to pull his hands up. They slammed on the door on either side of your head, making you jump as he ground his hips into your ass.<br/>
          “No, <em>you</em> broke us off for a reason.” He was breathless, furious as his hand came back down to grab your ass with bruising strength. “Because you're a fucking <em>whore</em>.”</p><p>          “No, I didn't cheat, I swear to god I didn't-” He took your hair in his fist and knocked your head into the door, not enough to really hurt you, but enough to make you whimper and squirm back against his warmth. He balled up his fists in the back of your shirt, lifting you off the ground and carrying you to the back of the room to throw you on the couch. He flipped you over onto your back, straddling your hips and closing his calloused hands around your neck. He sneered down at you, pressing into the couch and growling low in his chest as you struggled to breathe. Squirming, trying to break free, you could feel him getting hard against your stomach, as well as the growing slickness between your legs. He knew how to choke you just right, you remembered for sure, but this wasn't that- he was <em>trying</em> to restrict your breathing, maybe trying to crush you under his large hands. He stayed there for what could have very well been hours, squeezing and teasing you with quick inhales before he stole it all away.</p><p>          Huffing, he finally took his hands off your throat, letting you reach up to soothe the reddened skin as he undid the buckle on his belt. He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, pulling himself up to hover over your face and push into your gasping mouth, still catching your breath. Tears slipped down the sides of your face as his dick was forced down your throat, not giving you a second to adjust or breathe before his hips started bucking forward into your mouth. He held your head in his hands, fucking like an animal as he yanked on your hair. His head fell back towards the ceiling, tongue falling out of his mouth as he grunted and slammed your head onto the couch. His fingers tightened in your hair as he used your mouth, precum leaking down your throat as you gagged and cried silently.</p><p><em>         This</em> was why you'd broken up with Jack. Even at your best he was rough, claiming and aggressive for what should have been calm nights, but you never wanted to see what he was like when he actually wanted you to hurt. This wasn't sex, this was breaking your body to pieces beneath him. If he wanted to, he could pick up the shards and make you his all over again, or he could leave you shattered and broken under the weight of his desires. You could feel your throat tensing painfully around his dick, forcing it's way in and out, filling your mouth. Your hands came up to feel his cock making your throat bulge, before flying down to grab onto the couch as he picked up the pace. His hips thrust into you one more time, holding for a few seconds before pulling out. He put his thumb up to hook into your mouth, pulling your quivering lip down to look inside.<br/>
          “Still mine, aren't you pumpkin?”</p><p>          You didn't respond, making him snarl and smack his hand hard across your face, jerking your head aside with a sob. Pushing himself down, he raised your skirt to bunch around your hips and rubbed a thumb over your clit, before tugging your wet panties to the side and pushing two fingers in. You tensed and arched your back off the couch, screaming at the intrusion as he pumped them in and out a few times. This wasn't like him, to prep you at all, you thought, before he pulled his fingers out and started licking them clean, baring his teeth as he pushed them in his mouth to suck on. His eyes rolled back as he opened his mouth with a gasp, panting for a second before he looked down and pulled your folds apart with his thumbs. Licking his lips, he ran his cock up and down against your pussy and groaned when he finally pushed inside. He started slow, but only for a second to let him adjust to the wet, warm pressure.<br/>
          “Ohh...<em>fuck</em>, kitten. You have no idea how bad I've missed this sweet cunt.” He rolled his hips in hard, ignoring your frantic cries, hands scrambling before grabbing onto his chest. Grinning, he tucked his hands under your knees to pull you further back onto him, lifting your hips off the couch as he got up on his knees.</p><p>          Your body started to relax as his hips angled to hit the right spots, not letting up even as you were shaking and crying under his swollen cock fucking you nearly senseless. He kept thrusting into you, working you through a brutal orgasm as you wailed into his shoulder and sobbed hard, still not letting up from the spot he'd abused until your legs were quivering beneath him.<br/>
          “You're gonna look so pretty, honey. Such a good boy. <em>So</em> pretty tied up in my bed, pregnant.” Your eyes shot open in a panic as you whimpered, mumbling <em>no, no, no, please</em> into the crook of his neck as he fucked you. “I won't be able to let you outside, cupcake. Keep you full of my babies for <em>years</em>.” You sobbed, horrified at the thought of being his bitch like he so eagerly wanted, like he whispered into your ear before you broke up. “Or not? You don't fucking want it? You don't want me to cum inside you?” You shook your head, terrified babbling getting louder as he picked up his brutal pace.<br/>
          “No...please, please no...” He laughed sadistically, pressing a warm hand to your back to hold you to his chest.<br/>
          “Why don't you beg me to cum on your pretty face then, sugar? Go on. Fucking beg.” You cried hard into his shirt, fists clenching at the fabric as he panted and bucked his hips forward. “I'm getting close, pumpkin. Be a good bitch and beg daddy to cum on your face.”</p><p>          “...please...please, Jack-”<br/>
          “<em>Daddy.</em>” He grunted, fingers digging into your waist.<br/>
          “Daddy, please, cum on my face-” A weak sob. “...I-I want your cum all over me, please, please daddy, cum on me...” You didn't sound eager. You sounded terrified, begging for your life, and in a way, that's exactly what you were doing. That was exactly what he wanted, to hear you scared and begging for mercy. That's what he'd wanted since you broke up.</p><p>          Pulling out, he pushed you off his chest and onto the couch, climbed up to your face and jerked himself off the rest of the way, cum spilling in thick white strands across your cheeks. Your crying quieted when he went still, panting hard over you as his body relaxed. After a second he looked down at you with a sneer, grabbing your hair and pushing your face into the couch, wiping the cum onto the upholstery before climbing off you, hauling you up by the shirt and walking you towards the door. Your clothes barely fell back into place as he opened the door, thrusting you out into the dark hall, watching you wipe the streaming tears off your face for just a second.<br/>
          “I'll find you again, pumpkin. Count on it.” Before the door shut hard in your face.</p><p>          Standing in the hall to stare at the door for only a minute before the band started the next set, you slowly turned your bloodshot eyes back to the bar and sniffed hard. You'd mostly stopped crying, eyes wet and red for all to see as you started the limping walk back to the door. The bartender who gave you the shot raised an eyebrow but gave a quick wave as you pushed outside, the cold winter air hitting like ice water all at once. It froze away Jack's warm touch from your skin, pushing him to the back of your mind just for a moment at you looked up at the stars through bleary eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy birthday N! Hope it's all you wanted, love you &lt;3</p><p>Feel free to find me on Tumblr at scp116, hate will be ignored and deleted! c:</p></blockquote></div></div>
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